Stories Of Skyrim: The Dark Brotherhood Saga
by HappySunset2014
Summary: Kasirra, a kajiit beggar, has her life turned upside down when she accepts and carries out an assassination plot from young Aventis Aretino. OC story, some language and violence. Bad spelling and Grammar, but I hope the story is solid. Romance possible. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

Thank you for reading my first posting on . I've been a long time reader on this sight and finaly a first-time writer. I've done some bit pieces and the lot on the side but nothing published weather on the net or in print. Anyway, please enjoy my first fanfiction!

Fanfiction Title:

Stories of Skyrim: The Dark Brotherhood

Description: Kasirra, a kajiit begger, has her life turned upside down when she accepts and carries out an assasination plot from young aventus arentino.

Chapter One: Hunger makes for a better reason.

This one's stomach growls, but the noise can't be heard over this damn wind. Windhelm is always as such: Cold, windy and worse. No feasting off of warm meat and sweet sugar for Kasirra.

I moved from the warm sands and lush jungles of elswere to this gods-forsaken land of ice and snow for profit. Gold, however scarce it normaly was, always found a way to multiply in times of war. And this place was in its time of war, what with the issue of the thalmer and the nords and imperials. Bah.

I was promised a place with the caravans, a place where the foolish would squander away their money to the clever kajhiit for trinkits worth less than iron ore. I did well enough for an aprentice untill I found Merandru-Jo's satchel of moonsugar. Once a Kajhiit sees what she wants, it belonges to her, yes? But the fat cat Merandru-Jo did not see Kasirra's point of view and he tossed me out on the cold stones of Windhelm at first chance.

Filthy matted furred beast. He now feasts on sweet meats while I stand outside of the gnisis corner club, hopeing the kindly dark elfs would take pity and spare a bit of gold.

I repeated the same sentence, "Show pity for poor Kasirra", while I kept my gaize lowered. I kept my focus on my fur, dark grey with black stripes, my eyes were kept in an expression of sorrow, and were a comforting shade of blue. Probibly perfect for hideing in the shadows and stealing. I'd be doing that for sure if the nords of this land didn't threaten to kill me daily.

"Show pity for poor Kasirra," I muttered again, holding out a paw. A kindly argonian male pressed a small leather pouch of gold in my palm. I looked up at him, wide eyed. He smiled his unusual reptilian smile and held open the door for me.

"Come inside, kitten. Buy some food and spirits," He said, his voice soft. I kept my eye on him as I slipped inside the warmth of the corner club. He looked tipical for an argonian: green scales, pointed horns and pale green eyes. He had a scar acrossed his face.

I turned away from him and took a place at the bar. I noticed when the argonian sat on the stool beside me.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

I hesiteted, and gave my argonian friend a sideways glance before answering, " A mug of Flinn, and a bowl of apple cabbage stew and some bread. please."

The bartender nodded and addressed the argonian, "and you, sir?"

"Mug o' sujamma, and a plate of seared slaughterfish." said the kind argonian.

The bartender left to retrieve my food, I took the oprotunity to talk. "Umm...thank you kind sir for the gold. You saved me from becoming a thief."

"There are better ways of makeing gold than becoming a thief, but you are indeed welcome. I hate to see a lively young woman suffer in this cold climate." We stopped talking for a moment when the bartended sat our meal in front of us. I dug in imediatly, savoring the flavor of the food. It had been days since I had anything warm in my belly, and raw salmon looses its appeal after a while.

The bartender and the argonian started to talk. "I know all of your kind by name, sir, but I don't know you. Are you a relitive of one of the dock workers?"

"Hardly," replied the argonian, "I'm here on some business with my orginisation. But I don't have much time to do anything until morning. My client, as I've been told, likes his sleep." The argonian drank deeply from his mug of sujamma. I sipped my flinn, letting the drink warm my bones. It wasn't as effective as moon sugar, but it works just fine.

"Client eh?" probed the bartender, "You work for the fighter's guild or somthin? I thought they may send someone to drag that poor boy from his home"

This perked my intrest, because I knew at once what the old bartender spoke of. Aventus Arentino, the orphan who ran away from honorhall in Riften and hid in his old house. Townsfolk whispered about the Arentino boy preforming dark rituals to summon the dark brotherhood. But I wrote it off as gossip. The kid probibly started the rumor himself just so people would leave him alone.

"Exelent guess," said the argonian, draining the last of his drink, "But it is not the fighter's guild who sent me here. You could say I have business with ol' Grelog herself."

"She sent an enforcer to take the lad back then. I didn't think the bitter old biddy cared."

The argonian laughed, "I personaly could care less how the woman feels. When she gets her orphan, I get my gold."

"And how much is she willing to pay?" I asked. Both of them looked at me, and I felt a little self-concious, "I'm just wondering. Riften isn't exactly close by."

"Indeed not," replied the argonian. He ordered another mug and I did the same. When the bartender left, the argonain spoke up again, "Why so curious about such things? You arn't thinking about moving in on my bounty, are you kitten?"

I laughed, the warmth of the fireplace loosened me up a little, "I have no armor or weapons, how would I escort the boy?"

"Good point." murmured the argonian. The bartender gave us our respective mugs and the conversation ended there. I drained my cup quickly and paid for my meal. To be honest, I'd rather stay in the comfort of the corner club, but I would have to return to the outside eventualy. I bid the bartender and the argonian a farewell and made my way outside.

The wind and cold hit with a greater force than what I was acustomed too, wakeing me upp from my slightly drunken state. I shivered despite the protection of my fur. I thought about what the argonian said. About me moving in on his bounty.

Why shouldn't I? The scaleface had plenty of gold to give a stranger,so I'm sure he'd understand if a little bounty was lost. Besides, I needed the gold more than he did.

I set off to the cursed home of Aventus Arentino. The night provided exelent cover from the guards. I'm sure if they saw a shady cat slipping inside a place that wasn't hers, they would throw her in the jail cell quick.

I crept along the stone walls, as quiet as I could be. I did my best to blend in with the shadow, but sneaking came to me naturaly. All kajhiit can become one with the shadow given time and practice. My mother could melt into the shadows while she liberated jewels from nobles. Of course mother spoke about being the head of the theives guild in Cyrodill. Mother, I assume, partook of the skooma too often.

The cursed home loomed overhead, the door was firmly locked. I extracted a lockpick from my pocket and worked loose the lock. The door swung easily and I slunk inside.

The Arentino house was cluttered, dark and ill kept. Piles of clay plates and cups were broken and scattered across the floor. Books were ripped and their pages and tossed around the place. Close by, a soft chant echoed:

_"Sweet mother, sweet mother_

_Send your child unto me_

_For the sins of the unworthy_

_Must be babtised in blood and fear"_

The view of a young boy standing over a colection of bones, human flesh, and nightshade, encircled by candles. The boy picked up some nightshade and rubbed his silver dagger with the petals. He then proceded to stab at the odd colection and continued the chant.

"Young Arentino?" I said, my voice slighly louder than his soft chant.

The youth slowly looked away from his task, his eyes wide with shock. Cautiously he rose from the ground, he kept his dagger in hand. Great, now I'll be stabbed to death by a child.

"I...I can't believe it," He whispered, the blade slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He walked closer, "I can't believe you actualy came! An assassan from the dark brotherhood!"

"No, you are mistaken..." I tried to object, but he spoke over me.

"No it has to be you! I performed the black sacrement, you know." He looked at the bones and flesh with disgust, "with the body and the things... and you shown up! you will accept my contract!"

I had to ask, "Contract?"

And Aventus began to bable, "My mother died...I'm all alone now, and after her death they sent me to that horrable orphanage in Rifter. Honerhall!" His fist clenched in rage, "We have this mistress there,and they call her Grelod the kind. But she is not kind, she's horrible. To all of us!"

He paused briefly, looking up at me with determination, "She's your target. Kill Grelod and I'll reward you. With whatever I have..."

Pity shook my resolve. What is one little murder? Acording to this poor lad, Grelod was nothing but a monster. It truely woudn't be murder if the hag abused children, would it? Might just be Aventus Arentino's way of self defence.

"Err...your contract has been accepted by the brotherhood. We will honor your...request."

His face lit up and I had to smile in return, "Oh thank you, thank you so much and...um...may the night mother bless you!"

"Oh, umm... May the night mother bless you as well." I replied, and once more I slipped in the shadows. I still had some gold left over, I could catch a ride to Riften on carrage. One thing is certain, Grelod's time was almost up.

Thank you for reading my story. I'm not much of a spelling and grammer master-Obviously- but I hoped you liked it all the same. Read and Review.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I do not own anything out of the Elder Scrolls, I just like to use their characters and make up my own.

Finaly, Chapter two is in play! I have some ideas that I hope you all enjoy.

Description: Kasirra, a kajiit begger, has her life turned upside down when she accepts and carries out an assasination plot from young aventus arentino.

Stories Of Skyrim: The Dark Brotherhood Saga

Chapter Two: Road to Riften.

It took the rest of my coin just to convince the carrage driver to take me Riften. He complained when a begger dared to wake him before dawn and threatned to throw me in the sea of ghost, but when I jangled the gold in his face he reconsidered. Soon I was on my way.

I tried to mentaly prepair myself for my task. This wasn't murder,It was justifiable. The old crone has it comming, abusing children. I'm just protecting them, guarding them. I sighed, because no matter how I spun it, it was still murder. The question was, did I care?

It didn't matter if I did or not, soon I'll be in Riften, with no gold to get back to Windhelm. Either I become a murderer or a begger. Not much for profit any way I see it.

I focused on my surroundings. We were in the midpoint in our journey, close to the hotsprings. The driver stayed clear of the giant camp neer the road, but I could still see the wreakage of the recent travelers caravan: Bodies of darkelves strewn over the rocks, silver and bronze cutlary tossed about the road, pieces of broken wood and bent metal. I gulped.

"Not a pretty sight?" stated my driver. We watched as the giants lumbered around their camp, guarding a small hoard of treasure.

"Not at all," I agreed.

"I heard that Aloven slays giants just for the fun of it." sighed the driver, "Makes me wish he were here now"

"Who's Aloven?" I asked, wondering who could be strong enough to slay such fearsome creatures.

"Have you been hideing under the stone? 'Who is Aloven?' she asks me..."He grumbled a little, "And I thought you beggers knew gossip. Aloven is the Dragonborn!"

"Dragonborn," I repeated. I have heard of the Dragonborn, the legendary user of the Voice, the taker of the souls of dragonkind. The bards often told of the tale, a popular legend among Nords, "Aloven is an odd name for a Nord."

"Didn't say he were a Nord, did I?" growled the driver, "No, he is a Dark elf oddly enough. Probibly a slap in the face to the people of Skyrim."

"The gods are funny that way," I replied, "They made a Khajiit the Nereverine, didn't they. Also had a Bosmeri prisoner become the Hero of Cyridil. I supose they have a flair for ironey."

I froze when a great roar ripped through the sky. The driver skiddid to a stop and we both surveyed the area. A large, copper dragon rose from the horizon, bellowing and bealching flames in the sky. The beast came right for us. I jumped from the carrage and hid behind a large bolder.

"Mara preserve me." Cried the driver. He lept from his post and tried to make a run for it. The dragon, as quick as lightning ,swooped down from the sky and plucked him from the ground with its maw. Terror of what I had whitnessed froze me to the spot.

The dragon leasurely lowered onto the ground. I was sure the beast spotted me, he came closer to where I hid. I prayed to whatever gods would listen, hopeing for a loophole, an escape rout. I once heared that Khajiit were not fools, that we always had a knack for finding a way to get out of trouble. All of the ones who died in battle had a plan of escape, failed to use it, and died saying 'damn'.

Think Kasirra, think.

The dragon lifted his head to sniff the air. I hear the subtle swish of wind and an ebony arrow protruded out of the dragon's neck. The beast let out a bellow of outrage and took to the sky, the gust from his take off knocked me back a few feet. I heard heavy footfalls aproach me. In the sunlight stood a handsome darkelf clad in armor straight out of the fires of Oblivion. His red eyes were wide and alert as he gave me his hand to help me up.

"Can you wield a weapon?" He asked.

"Against a dragon?" I replied, a little shocked.

"We either fight the beast or we both die, now can you fight or not?" Demanded the dark elf.

"Bow and arrow," I stated quickly, and he handed me his ebony bow and a quiver of arrows just as black. The dragon circled overhead, as if it was deciding weather or not we were worth the trouble.

"Armor?" propted the dark elf.

"Anything light?" I asked. I hardly had any experence manuvering in leather, but I never once took on the burdon of heavy armor. Out of his pack, the dark elf pulled out a suit of leather armor.

"Put it on quickly" He said, tossing the armor at me, "I'm going to try and draw him to me, you find a high ledge and start shooting at him."

"I understand" I replied. He shot off and the dragon persued him. I quickly dressed in the armor and took his bow and arrows in hand. I heard the clash of metal on scales combined with roars from both the dragon and the elf warrior. They fought neer the side of a rock face. Gathering whatever courage I could muster, I climed to the top of the rocks. I had perfect view of the fight.

I drew the bow and notched my first arrow. It missed the dragon's head, landing in the dust. I was just a little bit rusty. I shot another arrow, this time I aimed for the scaly creature's neck. Again I missed, but I did hit the dragon right in its glowing eye. He let out a pained shriek and blindly shot a colomn of burning fire in the air. The dark elf took advantage of the dragons half blind state and he plunged his ragged dagger in the beast' throat. The creature struggled for a few seconds more, and than was still.

I climed quickly down, excited that I helped slay a dragon. I paused in shock when the dragon caught fire and burned to the bone. Light and flame emmiting from the beast and swirled around the dark elf as if he were absorbing the dragon's very soul.

And then it hit me, I can't believe I didn't see it before. No sane person would just go out and fight a dragon.

"You...you are..." I was at a loss for words.

"Aloven Anelos," He answered with a slight bow, "And you did quite well with the dragon. Rare that someone would help like that. Usualy they just took my gifts and ran away."

"You are the dragonborn!" I gasped, gathering my wits. I couldn't believe my luck. Alovan nodded at me.

"Yes, yes I am the dragonborn. So on and so forth, blah blah blah. But you havn't introduced yourself"

I felt heat rush to my face, and I was greatfull for the fur that covered it. "My name is Kasirra, I'm a begger from the streets of Windhelm"

He laughed and shook his head, "You are no begger. I have never seen a begger run to fight a dragon or use a bow with fair accuracy."

I laughed a little too, "It wasn't like I was born a begger. I worked for a Khajitti merchants caravan. We came all the way from Elswere to seek our fortune. I just came to learn the merchant trade, but I had some training as an acrobat."

"If you were so skillfull, then tell me how you ended up as a 'begger'?" He had an amused glint in his eye.

"Lets just say I like moonsugar, and lets just say that I took some that didn't truely belong to me." I paused at his grin, sighed and continued, "And lets just say one did not apreciate me taking his sweets. We Khajiit can be a territorial lot, yes?"

He nodded a little, "But I am not sure why a begger from Windhelm would be fighting dragons out in the wilderness."

"Not like I had much of a choice, you threw items at me and demanded that I fight" I grumbled, "I was on my way to Riften when you're scaly problem picked me up"

"Riften, eh? Then we have a similar goal. You wouldn't mind some company, would you?"

"Can't turn down the Dragonborn, can I?" I said.

He started to lead and I followed to his side.

This was a hard chapter to write. I wasn't sure how to paint the picture I wanted to paint. I hope you like this chapter. Please read and Review.


	3. Chapter 3

Stories of Skyim: The Dark Brotherhood.

I want to thank you all for reading my story. I'm glad to have the opprotunity to do somthing so fun! I'm happy for both the wonderful reviews of kindness and the harsh, but fair constructive critisizim. Even the flames are fine.

I don't own Elder Scrolls.

Chapter Three: The sudden death of Grelod the Kind.

Aloven, as it turned out, was a very great guide. I let him lead us through the mountain pass andwe spoke a little about our past. He inquired about my background and my homeland and I did my best to describe Elseweyr: The lush jungle filled with creatures and plants both colorfull and dangerous, the badlands and the sands. I spoke of my family, who fled the rule of the Mane and lived as merchants in the city of Riverhold. I told him of my journey to Skyrim, all the training I had as a merchant and my slight addiction to moonsugar.

He spoke of his life too. Before he came to Skyrim, Aloven lived in the city of Narsis, in Morrowind. Before that, he lived as a blade for hire in Balmora. When the volcano erupted, he fled to the main land and set up a life as a minor adventurer, building his skill as a blademaster and bowman. He eventualy set off to travel Tamriel and her provences moving from Morrowind to Black Marsh and from Elsweyr to Cyrodiil.

When he crossed Pale Pass into Skyrim, he was caught in an ambush involving Imperials and Stormcloaks. The Imperials though that he was a traitor to the Empire and lined him up with the others to the headsmans block in Helgan. Everyone in Skyrim knows what happened then. A huge black dragon swept out of the sky and set the poor town on fire.

Aloven escaped the grasp of the dragon, saved the city of Whiterun, met and trained with the greybeards, escaped the Altmeri Dominion headquarters and now he was on a mission to Riften. Hush hush business from a secret orginisation called...

"The blades" He spoke this name with reverence, "They used to be a very old, very grand order. Of course they lost favor and were nearly whiped out during the last war. I remember them during their prime, when they helped Tevashelle bring down Merunes Dagon."

"Tevashelle...she was the Hero of Cyrodiil. I'm suprised someone knows her name. I thought she craved her privacy."

Aloven blushed, making his cheeks turn a shade of dark blue, "Teva...she is very...was very special to me. I stayed with her for such a long time, but she was one of a dark character."

He stopped and surveyed our surroundings. I could see the wooden watchtowers ahead surounded by birch trees with red leaves. A few guards patrolled the dirt road, carrying shields with crossed daggers.

"Not much farther, just down the road a ways. I wanted to ask you somthing, before we get to the gates." He slowed his pace and I did the same.

"What do you need to know?" I asked.

"What business do you have in Riften? it' not exactly the safest city in Skyrim."

"I have a job there," I lied, "With the meadery."

Avelos nodded, "steady work, that. The whole of Skyrim seems in dire need for mead these days."

We walked a little longer in silence, I could see the stone walls of Riften close by.

"You said somthing about Tevashelle, about her having a dark character." I said.

Avelos noded grimly, "Yes, after her victory she traveled around Cyrodille just to see the sights. There was a fight in an inn and she killed the patron's wife. She was spared for a lifetime in prison when a man paid her bounty. That man brought her into a life of the dark brotherhood. Assasans for hire, you know."

"Yeah, " I replied, "I heard of them."

"Well she found herself a profitable life there, and became quite notorious. She even told me that she was the listiner: the only one who could hear the dark matron. The Night Mother. Of course that was years ago. The whole organisation was rumered to be burned to the ground, and not a trace of the guild remains."

He paused, his expression darkening, "We met with each other when I visited Chedenhal, which was as often as I could. I even planned to buy a home there and never leave. The night I told her I loved her was the night she burned along with the sanctuary."

"I shouln't have brought her up, I'm sorry."

"It's been only two years since the fire, I'm glad I could talk about it," He said softly, "And here we are."

Two guards greeted us at the gate, both clad in in fur and iron armor. The one to our right held out his hand, "You want in the city, I'll need about twenty gold."

"Twenty gold, what for?" I asked, a little surprised. The guards of Windhelm didn't require anything to enter the city.

"For a tour of our beautiful city, of course." Replied the guard.

"This is obviously a shakedown, " Avelos said loudly.

"Alright, keep your voice down. I'll let you inside."

The guard quickly unlocked the gate and opened the doors. When we filed inside, the doors slammed shut behind us. I took in the city: The broken down wooden shacks, the cracked stone walls. Riften smelled like fish and honey, it's streets were lined with beggars calling for gold and buff, scarred men robbing people for their jewles.

Riften was the opposite of beautiful. What have I gotten myself into?

"This is where we go our seperate ways, young Kasirra. Good luck with your job."

"Thank you for the company. I doubt I could have made the trip alone."

He nodded and turned down a dark corner. As soon as he was out of sight, I made my way to the middle of the city where a small group of beggars sat along the bags of goods. One of them looked at me when I aproached.

"I'm looking for Grelod the kind, " I told them.

The one who looked at me, an old nord man in filthy rags, smiled a toothless grin." You got gold?"

"Take one of my arrows. Pure ebony, you could probibly pawn it." I pulled out a single black arrow from my quiver and gave it to the beggar. He examined it briefly and gently touched the tip with his finger. He then ponted to an old weathered home just to the east.

"Thats the orphanage, old Grelog's haunt." Rasped the begger, "Nasty old witch, she spat at me the other day just because I walked in front of her."

I shook my head in disgust, more determined than ever to kill this woman. I left the beggar with his prize and walked along the street and to the old orhanage. I entered, surprised by the warmth of the place. I could hear a high, reedy voice fill the air. I followed the sound to find a wrinkled old woman looming over frightned children.

"And I don't want to hear another word about adoptions. Nobody wants you, nobody needs you. And thats why your here my little gutter snipes. Thats why you'll always be here until you become of age and get thrown into that cold, cruel world out there. Now what do you say?"

All of the children mumbled, "we love you Grelod, thank you for your kindness."

I about took out my bow and sniped the witch right there, but a soft voice interupted my impulse, "Can I help you?"

I turned to see a beautiful brunette with kind eyes , "I'm sorry, I was looking for Grelod, we have business to discuss."

She frowned softly, "Are you talking about adopting a child? Grelod made her stance clear on the subject, she wont let these little ones go. Not since Aventus ran away."

"My business is private, I'm not here to adopt." I said calmly, "I need to speak to her. Alone" I emphasized.

"Oh of course, forgive my curiosity. Grelod rarely recieves visiters. If you'll excuse me." she went about checking in on the children. She spoke kindly to them, gently hugging their sholders in confort. She would be a refreshing change for the kids here. A little hope.

Grelod had left the main room and retired to her bedroom just a few feet away. I crept out of sight and followed close behind her. Her bedroom door opened with a soft creak and I slipped in.

The old witch turned at the sound, glowering at me, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a friend of Aventus Arnetino. He asked me to give you somthing." I didn't give her a chance to responed. I drew my bow, notched an arrow and shot her through the chest.

Grelod breathed her last and was still. My contract was complete. I took the gold on her body, just thirty gold pieces.

I think it was natural Khajit luck that the hag didn't make a sound. I told her helper that she demanded privacy. Hopefully they wont notice her death until morning.

The only regret I had about this was the Argonian who helped me out of the cold. With Grelod dead, he can't collect his bounty. I hoped he wouldn't connect the murder to me.

I decided to spend the night at the Bee and Barb. Tomorow I'll make my journey to Windhelm. The Arentino child needs some good news.

A/N: Another chapter down. I've been busy with a lot of stuff, so working on this fanfict was kind of the lower part on my to-do list. I love this story though and I'm going to continue so please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter four is finaly done. I'm trying to churn out these chapters as quick as I can because I only have a small amount of time during the day just to write, so don't worry if it takes me a while to update.

Chapter Four: An offer I just couldn't refuse

I felt like I was being weaned from moonsugar. The skin under my fur shivered from the cold, bitter air. I heard muffled voices neerby. Was I halucinating? Were was the warmth of the bed in Riften? Why did my body feel brused?

Hard, splintered wood replaced the soft bed. The wind howled loudly, temporarily silencing the muffled sounds. I opened my eyes to semi darkness. The ramshackled room was dimly lit and filled with broken barrels, busted crates and rusted tools. I turned my head to the noise behind me.

Three figures faced me, bound with rope, their faces covered completly. I pulled myself to my feet, still disorented at my relocation. I kept my eyes on the bound prisoners. Was I a prisoner too? The guards must have found me out and this could just be a prison cell. Or worse.

"It's about time you woke up." A seductive voice said behind me, "It's rude to keep our guest waiting."

When I turned around, the first thing I saw was shadow, but somthing moved in the darkness and I could make out a tall, thin, femimin figure sitting leasurly on an abandond shelf. Her whole body was covered in armor as black as a moonless night, but I could see her eyes clear enough. Colbalt blue, sparkling with curiosity.

"W-where am I?" My heart hammered in my chest.

"Does that matter? Your safe and very much alive. The same can't be said for old Grelod, hmm?"

"Y-you know about that?" Damn, I thought I was careful.

The shadow figure laughed, "Half of Skyrim knows. An old woman gets butchered in her orphanage. Word like that spreads quickly." She paused, letting the words sink in, "But there is a...problem."

"A problem?". Yeah, she's going to kill me.

"Grelod was a target for the Dark Brotherhood, you see. A kill that you stole. A kill you must...repay."

I understood imediatly, "You want me to kill someone...who?"

She laughed again, a little maniacal sound, " Haven't you noticed my guest? There is one soul who is a target of the DarkBrotherhood. But which one? That is for you to deside."

I took in a deep breath. This was the only way out of a bad situation, "Alright I'll do it, I'll kill one of them."

"See, I knew we could come to a civised you choice, make your kill. I'm just here to watch...and admire." 

I turned away from her and drew my bow. Did it matter who I shot? If these people were bagged and dragged by the Dark Brotherhood, there was a reason for it. I closed my eyes, aimed and the arrow shot into the still air. With a sickining thud, my arrow found its mark. The woman in the middle was sprawled on the ground, blood thrickling from the wound in her neck.

Seeing the image triggered somthing inside of me. With a strange thrilling sensation, I notched another arrow and watched as it penatrated the flesh of a cowardly nord, killing him with one blow. I let the last arrow leave my bow and kill the Kajhiit to my right. A mix of purpous filled my soul, erasing my shame.

"Well well, arn't we the overacheaver." The woman in black said softly, "Well done, you are free to go. But I'm going to offer you a chance of a life time to join my...ah...family. To the south, close to Falkreath lies a grotto, there you will find the black door. When you aproach the door, it will ask 'What is the meaning of night?' and you must answer, 'Silence, my brother'. Do you understand?"

I nodded, still confused about this new awakening. Was I realy going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

"Good, I'll see you at home sister." The woman said as she faded completly into darkness.

I gathered my nerve. This was somthing I couldn't pass up,a chance to join a league of Assasans, the most notorious group in all of Tamriel. No more living in the streets, no more begging for gold.

Yes, I thought to myself as I pulled the arrows from my victem's bodies, this would do nicely.

A/N: Sorry about the short chapter. I'm hopeing to lengthen the chapters as the story progresses. Please read and review."


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